


Lord Voldemort always Wins (well nearly always)

by Magic_Blue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Humor, One Day Voldemort will win, The two sides of the Magic World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 00:38:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10293485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magic_Blue/pseuds/Magic_Blue
Summary: The little vermin dared look at him in the eyes with defiance, unworthy who had just one place in the world: crawling to lick the ground beneath HIS noble boots.  And this look, simple white cotton pants, a t-shirt equally white and a robe, to change, white. Seriously, was that really his nemesis? Lord Voldemort deserved better.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So before you start reading, I want to apologise for my English. It's not my first language and nobody corrected this work, all faults are mine.

The cold wind blew in the courtyard of the castle, making shiver the leaves and his enemies with fear, fright and terror. This reaction, this power that he had on them, made him feel satisfaction, a lot of satisfaction. HE had the power, so much more that this pathetic rats impotent. He could have killed them effortless, alas … a miserable traitor protect them. He was of his race, the side of the winners, elites, superior people, but he dared to stand up against his great project: the extermination of powerless rats, the Muggles as the traitors named them. Why name them, these subspecies of nothing without utility, in any case nobody will remember them because he is going to kill the betrayer and then it will be their turn!

 

Why not kill him before? Make no mistake, he had the power to do it, however this traitor, this vermin was hidden, he fled like the coward he is. Harry Potter must die and the day finally came. He couldn't help but let out a diabolical laughter. The day of the extermination and this reign came. Watch out, Lord Voldemort is coming!

 

He finally gave a little attention to his enemy unworthy of him and snorted contemptibly to what he saw. The little vermin dared look at him in the eyes with defiance, unworthy who had just one place in the world: crawling to lick the ground beneath HIS noble boots. And this look, simple white cotton pants, a T-shirt equally white and a robe, to change, white. Seriously, was that really his nemesis? Lord Voldemort deserved better.

 

Sighing deeply, he evaluated the cockroach and decided that a little speech before the start of his reign will be certainly welcome. So he took the floor:

 

''You finally go out of your hole, filthy rat! Now you can admire the mighty power of your master: me. I a-''

 

''Eh, sorry b-''

 

''Don't cut me off, insolent! What give you the rights to interrupt me! … Hum, so I was saying (cleared his throat): I have plans to kill you right away to move the joyousness, namely rats' extermination. However, the mercy of my heart, I'm going to make you a proposition. Considering your magic blood, you are a-''

 

'' I don't want to interrupt bu-''

 

''NO, NO AND NO! Shut up brat and let me speak! Inspire, expire calmly, Anger is bad...'' The Great Lord Voldemort repeated as a mantra. ''And if you interrupt me again, there will be not more proposition.''

 

''You already need to tell me what you propose and I will see if it's worth shutting up.'' The four-eye brat replied insolently.

 

''Yes, right. Where did I stop? Yes, so: Considering you magic blood, you are a part of the elite -where I'm the king, obviously- so if you give up protecting those who call Muggles, your friends, I will not kill you in atrocious suffering.'' Lord Voldemort, future king, finished really quickly, in fear to be cut off again.

 

The cold wind became more violent, the trees and their foliage shaking frantically. Both nemesis -or maybe future allies- gazed each other.

 

''No, thank you.'' Harry Potter answered as simple as possible, a little too direct to the taste of the king.

 

''What 'no, thank you’?'' The Great Lord Voldemort exclaimed, shocked by the hubristic denial.

 

''No, thank you Sir.''

 

''Don't fuck with me, stinking vermin! YOU ARE GOING TO DIE TODAY! MOUAHAHAHAHAHAH !''

 

''You can't kill him!'' A young woman yelled, dressed in a brown skirt, a white shirt and a white coat. King Voldemort –yes, it’s definitely a nice ring in the title- scowled with discontent to the woman interrupting stupidly his grand moment.

 

''Muggle, how dare you show yourself in front of me, Lord Voldemort. Do you think you can stand against me and not suffering the consequences?''

 

''M. De Mort, I request you to calm down.''

 

''Request me? No, no, no, you can only beg me, implore my mercy! Is that the unique ally you have, traitor?'' Voldemort asked, laughing at the absurdity.

 

The young woman watched him with confusion for a while. Then she tried a different approach:

 

''Vol, can I call you Vol? I'm asking you to calm down or I call the medics.''

 

''I'm going to kill you, miserable Muggle.'' Vol De Mort raised his wand in her direction.

 

''That's enough! Medics! Contain him and put him in isolation.''

 

On her orders, two medics passing by nodded and came closer. One of them approached slowly Lord Voldemort.

 

''Come on Tommy, put the stick on the ground, please.''

 

''Avada Kadavra! Die Muggles! What are you doing? Give my wand back! Let me go with your flighty paws, rats! Ouch! My castle, it's my castle; you can do nothing in my castle... My master-plan... Harry Potter you will pay, I will come back... You will se...''

 

''It's okay, the tranquillizer had work, Doctor Bonsanté.” The medics confirmed.

 

''It's always fun to see Tom be subdued, but I really need to use the toilet.'' These words concluded the win of Harry James Potter, the Survivor.

 

The young woman, Dr. Bonsanté, nodded to them and went seek a colleague who can inform her about this weird M. De Mort. She entered into the personnel room and asked the question to four colleagues enjoying the coffee-break.

 

''Do you know a patient named De Mort?''

 

''De Mort?'' One of the men asked, unbelievingly.

 

''Yes, M. Vol De Mort.''

 

''Wait, I think she's talking about Tommy!'' A woman interjected. ''Did he call you 'Muggle'?''

 

''Yes, it's him. I don't understand his delusion.''

 

''Ah, well, it's trust he's a good one. I'm going to tell you his 'story'. His name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. But he managed to find an anagram: I am Voldemort. To him, there are the Wizards -those in bathrobe- and the Muggles, normal people. Apparently, he wants to exterminate the Muggles to reign on the world. A megalomaniac.''

 

''Why did he attack to a certain Harry Potter, he's a patient in bathrobe too.'' Dr. Bonsanté asked after a moment of thinking.

 

''That's why he's a good one. Tom has a lot of imagination; those who don't enter his delusion are his enemies. His biggest 'enemy' is Harry Potter, he had a suicidal tendency.'' The woman explained.

 

“Was M. Riddle always been like that?”

 

''No, he wasn't. Before he just wanted to exterminate everyone, I think he didn't have a good childhood. But when he was signed in, he started to develop his little world: the doctor on his case, the psychiatrist Albus Dumbledore, is a bit loopy. He became the mastermind of his misery according to Tom, however, as he still helped him a little, Albus became the Headmaster of magic school.'' The first man continued, laughing.

 

''Tom thinks the castle is his. It was a bad idea to transform a castle in an asylum, it makes the patients more paranoid, more depressive...'' The last man concluded in his beard. All his colleagues nodded in silence.

 

''Did you hear about Peter Pettigrow ?''

 

''The one who thinks he's a rat? Yes, I do. They say he...''


End file.
